Friday, 31 October 2014

Samhain Reflection

My life now, compared to this time last year is virtually unrecognisable except perhaps as it had been a distant vision then. Something so distant I could barely make it out in the protracted future, not guessing how close it really was and yet simultaneously I could barely make myself out in the unhappy landscape I had grown comfortable in the familiarity of.

I have done what I thought for many years I could not, perhaps should not do. I climbed a mountain one precarious step at a time. And I nearly fell, fell right apart at the seams. I got horrendous vertigo and doubt, doubt taunted me breathing it's sour breath over my shoulder as I tried to stay focused and blinkered to the path ahead.  


The bottom of my heart fell right out and grief ripped through the deepest parts of my soul. I've stood in waterfalls of my own tears and the bonfire of all I have worked towards for so long. But all the while an ember of knowing and tenacious gumption stayed kindled in my heart, refusing to be extinguished, one single solid root stayed anchored in my resolve and I didn't give up, I didn't take my foot off the gas. Adrenalin and cider were my questionable friends, but without them I would have imploded.  

And now dust settled, here I be writing from the cosy living room of my own harmonic nest. Even the slight chaos of toys scattered after a week of having the children here over half term seems tender in it's symbiotic relationship with us. 

For many years, at this portal time where the worlds stand closer and things become introspectively clearer I have fought the same quandaries and misinterpretations.  This year all I feel is an unfamiliar weightless freedom. My introspection now is simple on a daily basis in terms of the day just passed. There is no feeling of being trapped or desperate and helplessly lost in my own story, for I am the writer asserting my ownership and these blank pages my playground.  All is well.

That is all.  Humble, grateful, happy.